


Endure

by littlechinesedoll



Series: Cum Dumpster Bruce Wayne [47]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Beauty and the Beast cliche, Cliches and tropes, Doomsday Virus, Established Relationship, M/M, mutations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: “There’s this virus…” said Clark. “It…it infected me. It mutated me. Made me look like a monster. Like Doomsday,”---Based on/inspired by the Doomsday Virus thing that's happening in Action Comics right now. Though not completely based off it.





	Endure

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: In New 52 Action Comics Superman is infected with a Doomsday Virus and has a mutated doomsday type body, he is aware of his condition and still saves the world and everything, now... imagine that for some reason the virus wants to spread and he goes looking for Bruce (I you know what I mean).... sorry!! Is sick I know but I was.... wondering
> 
> \---
> 
> I looked up this Doomsday Virus and it seems like it’s literally eating Clark alive to turn him into Doomsday. However, not sure I like the thought of Doomsday as Clark having his way with Bruce. That’s way too…dark…for me right now and I don’t physically feel well enough to try. I feel like I’m on the way to a flu right now and I feel like shit but I have to turn up at work tomorrow. 
> 
> So my sick, uninformed ass came up with this.
> 
> Here’s some angst for you, anon, since some other anon already branded me an angst monster.
> 
> I. AM. THE ANGST MONSTER. 
> 
> jk i hope you enjoy
> 
> \--- 
> 
> http://cumdumpsterbrucie.tumblr.com/post/174142855431/in-new-52-action-comics-superman-is-infected-with

Bruce hadn’t seen Clark in weeks.

It wasn’t about work since he hadn’t shown up at work for the same amount of time Bruce hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t about losing his powers since he’d be the first to know if Clark had suddenly gone down with a cold.

If Clark needed space, Bruce would give him the space. But this was going out of line. He hadn’t seen or heard from Clark in _three weeks_. Not even a text. He wasn’t angry because Clark had gone on an extended leave, or he hadn’t been notified, that he’d missed hours and hours of monitor duty that Bruce had to reshuffle everybody’s schedule indefinitely. He was furious that he was the only one who didn’t know.  

When Diana had let it slip that Clark was on the tower, Bruce was then sure Clark was avoiding him. Clark had been holed up in the tower for three weeks, avoiding him.

Bruce wasn’t prepared, however, to know that Clark wasn’t in his dormitory, but in a holding cell. Without any bars or glass.

He stood in front of the thick metal door. “Clark, open this door right now,” Bruce turned to the personnel in charge of the cell.  “I said, open it,” he hissed at the staff.

“We can’t sir,” the staff tried to reason. “He’s the only one who can unlock it,”

Bruce let out a pissed exhale. “I swear to God, Clark, I’ll take this engagement ring off if you don’t open this door _right now_ ,”

After a few moments, there was a hiss of air, and the door slid open. It was dark inside.

“Please go away, Bruce,” came Clark’s raspy voice.

He sounded… distorted. Like there were several layers to his voice flattened together.

Bruce stepped into the room and the door slid closed.

“You’ve been avoiding me,”

“I don’t want you to see me like this,”

“Turn on the lights,”

“No. I’m a monster,”

“Between the two of us, I’m the more monstrous one,” Bruce stepped forward, hands in front of him, looking for something to hold on to. “There you are,” he said when he felt Clark lead him away from a wall with this arm.

“There’s this virus…” Clark started. “It…it infected me. It mutated me. Made me look like a monster. Like Doomsday,”

Bruce slowly smoothed up Clark’s larger than normal bicep, to his shoulder, noticing how Clark had grown at least two feet higher, and by the time he reached Clark’s neck, his hands were above his head, feeling the once smooth skin replaced by something rough and callous-like, and tough like leather. He looked up and cupped Clark’s face. “Show me,”

“I…I can’t, Bruce. This isn’t whom you agreed to marry. This isn’t the one that gave you this ring,” Clark held Bruce’s left hand and felt the silver band still on Bruce’s ring finger.

“I don’t care. Show me.”

The lights flicker on.

Clark had red eyes and gray skin. Clark hadn’t just grown in height, he’d literally grown larger. He was slumped, letting Bruce reach his face. Sharp, bone-like protrusions on his chin, and the very same ones spiked out of his elbows and knees, ruining his uniform. His feet had the same sharp claws as his hands, destroying the boots he wore. The cape was folded neatly in a corner, untouched, clean, and undamaged.

“Clark…” Bruce whispered.

Clark went to retrieve his cape, let the artificial gravity of the tower unfold it, and wrapped it around Bruce’s shoulders. He sank down to his knees and sat on the floor to level with Bruce but wouldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, Bruce,” he said softly. “I took off the cape so I wouldn’t ruin it. I know you like it a lot,”  

Bruce tightened the cape around his shoulders. Infected with a virus with no known cure, and Clark was still thoughtful enough to remove his cape and set it aside because Bruce _liked_ it.

“But the scientists at the science department are trying to fix it,” he tried to remedy the damage the last three weeks had done. “The Fortress is trying to find a cure, too. I just…I didn’t want you to see me like this, Bruce. I didn’t know if it was going to take over my head and make me hurt you and that’s the last thing I want to do,”

Bruce lifted Clark’s chin.

Pained red eyes looked up at him. “I don’t, I’d never, want to hurt you. I’d rather die,”

Bruce nodded. “It’s alright,” he brushes the hair away from his eyes. “We’ll fix it together. I’m here, and we’ll fix it together,”

Clark felt like a dwarf star weighing a million tons had been lifted off his shoulders, like he could breathe properly for the first time in weeks. He attempted a smile, and Bruce kissed his forehead, pulled his head to his chest, wrapping him in an embrace.

“We promised each other we’d endure everything together, Clark. So we will,”


End file.
